Summary:It's the summer after Harry's fifth year; Harry is whisked off to a different dimension where he finds new family and a lost heritage. It all seems too good to be true, but what is Aunt Petunia not telling him...and is everything really as good as it seems?

Disclaimer:Um, I don't own Harry Potter. But I do own the entire series in English, French and Japanese, because I'm weird like that.

IMPORTANT AN: I have a few things to say about this fanfic which you may or may not find important:

This is my guilty pleasure. i.e. It is my stress relief. I never intended to take this fic seriously, it was a kind of parody if you will in the beginning, although it slowly started to evolve from that into something more and I eventually edited it a bit when inspiration struck me in the middle of exams

If I fail my exams, it's because of this blasted fic. So be grateful (that is, if you actually LIKE this, which I hesitate to say you will)

Because this fic is my stress relief, I won't be the least bit dedicated towards it. Ok, well, not really. Just not to the extend that I am my Narnia drabble (shamelessly advertises her own fanfiction) which, btw, if you like Narnian stuff you should go check out, because I'm told it's quite good. XP

If stuff doesn't make sense, that's probably because it really truly makes no sense. I'm making this up as I go along and half the time I don't know what I'm writing and the other half of the time I'm stressed and on a sugar high from too much chocolate.

This isn't meant to stay overly in character or be believable, so if that's what you're looking for, turn back now.

This fic isn't beta-ed

Just read it. Thanks.

Ok, enjoy.

Harry sat silently in the back of his uncle's car on the way home from his fifth year at Hogwarts. It was a very terse silence that permeated the atmosphere. His Aunt Petunia sat stiffly in the passenger seat in front of him while Uncle Vernon gripped the wheel a little too tightly as he drove.

So far only a few words had been exchanged since meeting up at the train station (not including the Order's threats), and those had only been clipped commands to get his things into the car so they could leave. Harry wasn't overly worried by this behaviour however, because it was quite natural for his relatives. He was only glad Dudley had opted to stay at home or the car might not be so silent.

Harry much preferred the silence to his uncle's ranting or his cousin's piggy-eyed glares of promised pain.

The countryside flashed by outside as Uncle Vernon finally turned off the M25 and onto the freer motorways. In fact, Harry mussed silently, as he turned his head to stare dizzily at the flashing streaks of colour, his uncle drove like a maniac. He eyed the speedometer and estimated they were going about 90mph. However, he decided against pointing this out to either of his relatives and simply gripped the seat belt tightly. He'd been on faster rides, of course, like his broom, but at least then he had the reassurance of his own hand at the wheel, or rather, the handle.

With a carefully hidden sigh, Harry closed his eyes against the glare of the midday sun and sat back, waited, and tried not to let his mind wander. Having an anguished sob in front of his uncaring relatives would not be the wisest course of action.

It was an hour drive to Surrey from London, but with his Uncle's driving it only took them 45 minutes. When the car finally swung into the driveway of Number 4 Privet Drive, the first thing Harry's relatives did was leave him alone in the car as if he didn't exist.

Shrugging, Harry exited the car and opened the driver's door to pop the boot. Once that was done, he grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's owl cage (fortunately not with Hedwig still in it, he'd sent her on ahead earlier), and proceeded to heave them to the front door. The trunk seemed heavier this year, though Harry supposed it had to do with all the extra books added for each new school year.

He made it to the door and was relieved to find it wasn't locked. His relatives liked to pretend he wasn't real, even going so far as to lock the door after them when they knew he was still outside. Grunting, Harry pushed the door open with his shoulder and dragged his trunk inside.

Dudley was waiting for him on the stairs, a bowl of ice cream in one hand and a coca cola in the other. Harry didn't return the sneer sent his way, and instead pushed his things up against the wall and went into the kitchen. Hopefully Dudley would get bored of blocking the way upstairs and he would move.

As it turned out, Harry didn't have to wait that long. No sooner had he entered the kitchen than Uncle Vernon began proclaiming loudly to his wife that he and 'Dudders' would be going out to visit the gym. Apparently, Dudley was still boxing and he and Vernon were exclusive members of a health club that would allow Dudley to build up some muscle for his fights. Harry couldn't have possibly thought of a more fitting sport for his large whale of a cousin. The boy was a bully to the core.

Dudley was forced to abandon his ice cream and soda and thump up the stairs to get his things. Harry waited in the shadows for Dudley to come back down before he started trying to heave his belongings up the narrow staircase. He was half way up and panting heavily by the time he heard the car drive away.

Now it was just him and Aunt Petunia, and Harry was quite grateful. Hopefully, Uncle Vernon and Dudley would go out to the gym often during the summer hols and leave Harry some room to breathe - and time to grieve.

"Stop thumping that thing, boy!" Aunt Petunia suddenly screeched from behind him, making Harry jump. He certainly hadn't heard her come out of the kitchen. He craned his head around and spotted her by the base of the stairs, glaring up at him angrily with her cooking apron on and a wooden spoon in one hand.

"Sorry Aunt Petunia," said Harry, who was not really very sorry at all.

Aunt Petunia harrumphed and stalked back into her domain. With a sigh, Harry finished pulling his trunk up the stairs and quickly went back for Hedwig's cage. Gripping it tightly under his arm, he was easily able to get the much lighter and less bulky metal contraption up the stairs, and in record time he had his things situated in his room.

Sitting on his bed, Harry contemplated opening his trunk and getting his books out, but decided against it after thinking of the huge essay Snape had assigned them for Potions. After all, he had his wand with him and that was all that currently mattered. Then, Harry felt his stomach growl and he sighed again. Now he'd have to go filch some food before Vernon and Dudley came back, or else he'd be very hungry. Sometimes it was so hard going from the delicious dinners of Hogwarts to the meagre scraps off of Petunia's table.

Unfortunately for Harry, Aunt Petunia was acting Mistress of the Kitchen for the day and the only way Harry would be getting any food was if he did it right in front of his aunt. Figuring it couldn't hurt, Harry tiptoed into the kitchen as quietly as possible when Petunia's back was turned. If he tried to bring as little attention to himself as possible, it was likely she would ignore him.

Harry was triumphant. He managed to grab an apple, a few slices of bread, and a bag of crisps before Petunia knew he was in the kitchen, and by then he was already walking out, acting like he had every right to be taking food (which technically he did, but Harry's relatives were a bit of an abusive lot and didn't take kindly to such assumptions).

Safely ensconced back in his bedroom, Harry opened his crisp packet and ate them with relish. Despite how wonderful Hogwarts food was, sometimes Harry missed the regular mundane foods like pizza and crisps and burgers. To be fair, pizzas and burgers were more of a delicacy to Harry than properly cooked meals because the Dursleys so rarely let him have them.

Harry scowled at this thought and determined to have at least one pizza or burger this summer before he went back to school. Maybe he could bribe Tonks to go out and get one for him on her next guarding shift? It was plausible.

It turned out that the crisps, apple, and bread were to be Harry's only dinner that night, so he went to bed with a rather empty stomach and dearly wishing he'd saved the crisps. Fortunately, Harry's internal alarm clock managed to wake him early enough that he was able to nick a decent breakfast and be back in his room before the Dursleys even began to stir. Harry had very good survival instincts - they were well honed from years of practise.

Two more days passed in this manner before Harry decided to vary his schedule a bit. Instead of appearing in front of his uncle only to be ordered to get to work doing something or other in the garden, Harry stayed shut in his room and broke out his textbooks.

Hermione would be so proud, he couldn't help but think as he started on his gruelling Potions essay first.

But, soon Harry grew bored of looking up ingredient reactions and thinking intellectually and so switched to something less stressful like his Care of Magical Creatures summer homework. Bless Hagrid for being such an easy grader. Indeed, Harry was quite fond of his larger friend.

Harry managed to sneak more food than he was given for dinner that evening and was feeling inordinately pleased with himself when he went to bed that night. He'd even managed to spot his guard out the window as well and waved. A disembodied hand had waved back.

So Harry went to sleep that night, not knowing that he, and the rest of the Dursleys, would be woken the next morning at just past dawn by a commotion in the living room.

Vernon was the first up, although Harry had found himself awake and listening sleepily to the sounds of hushed voices and a bit of banging coming from downstairs. In fact, it took quite some time for the sounds to register in Harry's mind as being part of reality and not some strange dream he was having. It was this thought that had him grasping for his wand in one hand and slowly drawing back the covers with the other.

He had just hidden himself behind his door when a harsh whisper came through the keyhole.

"Boy!" Hissed the voice.

Harry jumped and almost let loose a curse until he realised that it was only his Uncle Vernon.

"What?" He hissed back.

"Go check downstairs! Someone's broken in! It might be your lot." Vernon Dursley ordered his nephew, his own well-being foremost in his mind.

Harry really shouldn't have been surprised at the utter selfishness and self-preservation that his uncle was currently displaying, but he still found himself wordlessly working his mouth up and down.

"No way!" He finally managed.

"Now boy!" Vernon's voice was louder this time and the voices floating up the stairs paused momentarily.

In the end, Harry concluded that he was the only one in the household most capable of defending himself, so really, it ought to be him that ventured downstairs to see what the problem was. Of course, that didn't mean he had to like the situation.

Glaring heavily at his uncle who was peering at him (along with Petunia and Dudley) from the safety of Dudley's room, Harry cautiously poked his head around the corner of the stairwell and gazed about. He didn't see anyone, but he could hear shuffling from the direction of the living room. Taking a deep breath, and trying not to think about how thoroughly stupid he was being, he started creeping down the stairs.

Fortunately, in Harry's many years of honing his survival instincts, he's also learnt all the ins and outs of the Dursley household staircase. This of course included knowing exactly where to place his feet so as not produce any squeaking. Feeling slightly smug at this knowledge, Harry crept down the stairs and reached the bottom without a single sound. Socks also came in handy, it was useful to note.

By now, Harry had determined that the voices were most definitely coming from the living room. He stilled himself and tried to work out some of the frantic whispering. It didn't take him long to realise that the intruders were speaking in a different language. It was a beautiful language, full of soft sounds and trills and lilted voices. Harry could have stood there and listened to it all day, but another thump and what sounded like a curse managed to draw his attention back to the matter at hand.

Now, he had quickly come to the conclusion that the intruders were neither death eaters nor Order members, which didn't leave many options left. If he included the strange language these people were speaking then that left virtually no options at all. Harry really had no idea who these people could be. Either way, he wasn't going to find out standing hidden behind the wall. Taking a deep breath, he slowly poked his head around the wall...

And almost gasped out loud.

There were two, well, Harry didn't think it was fair to call them people, because they weren't; they were beings, standing in the living room. Or rather, they were exploring the living room. He had to hold back a desire to giggle, because both of the tall, willowy people looked like little children in a sweet shop.

Still, Harry stared at them in avid fascination, they were unlike anything he had ever seen before. He knew they weren't human, although he wasn't sure exactly how he knew. They were definitely humanoid in shape and had no random protruding animal appendages like wings or tails, yet, Harry knew straight away that they weren't human.

He studied them more closely (as closely as he could hidden behind a wall) and finally figured it out. First it was their clothes. Or more rather, the way they wore their clothes, as if they were wisps of silk floating on a breeze. The fabric didn't rustle, simply whispered. It was rather enchanting. Second, they were both rather tall and slender and their skin almost shined. But it wasn't abnormally pale or anything. One being was pale, but the other was actually almost tanned. So it wasn't that, it just sort of glowed for no reason. Harry thought that maybe they were like glow worms and absorbed luminescent light, but then dismissed the idea as being silly.

Third, which took him more time to identify, the beings had oddly shaped ears. They were long, pointed and delicate. And they twitched occasionally. They were perhaps an inch or two longer than normal human ears and tapered at the end. Harry reckoned they had very good hearing and wondered how they hadn't figured out he was spying on them yet.

However, the final indicator (besides the completely beautiful and inhuman language they were speaking, which Harry was quiet sure no mortal throat could reproduce) was that when one of these beings bent down to gaze curiously at one of Aunt Petunia's prized vases, the reflection of its eyes glowed. Like a cat's.

Must have great night vision as well, Harry mussed to himself.

Seeing more of the sun's rays creep through the partially open blinds and light up the room more, Harry felt that now would be an opportune moment to retreat back upstairs and inform the Dursleys of his findings. He had the feeling that Vernon was going to be none too happy at the clearly magical beings in his 'normal' living room. He would take quite a lot of pleasure in informing his relatives and watching their reactions. Maybe Vernon's face would take on that fascinating days-old-porridge colour that it sometimes turned. Or Dudley might run and hide his bottom again. Harry still had such fond memories of that incident.

Thinking these happy thoughts, the raven-haired boy snuck quietly back up the stairs and searched for his 'family'. He found them huddled in his aunt and uncle's room.

As soon as he closed the door quietly behind him, Uncle Vernon almost pounced on him. Beady eyes staring feverishly into Harry's own, Vernon demanded to know what was happening and if they should call the police.

"Oh I wouldn't do that, it might cause a commotion," Harry told him with relish. He waited a second or two for the implications to sink in. When they did, he was not disappointed. Vernon's face turned a lovely shade of mauve-ish purple.

"Then it's your lot!" His uncle practically spat.

"Nope!" Said Harry cheerfully.

Vernon blinked at this and Harry heard Dudley whimper.

"If it's not your lot, then who is it?" The man demanded.

"Well," began Harry, feeling disappointed that his uncle had gotten over his shock so quickly, "I'm not sure really."

"Are they robbers?"

"No, at least, I don't think so."

"Murderers?"

"Pretty sure, no."

"Blazes boy! Are they the neighbours come round for tea!? Who is it?"

Harry stopped playing games with his uncle, afraid the man might keel over dead from exertion.

"Ok, I really don't know, but I can describe them to you," he began.

"Describe?" Petunia asked from the bed.

Harry nodded at his aunt and thought about how best to describe other-worldly creatures to his magic-fearing muggle relatives.

"They're tall," he began again, only to be cut off by Vernon.

"TALL?!"

"Shhh, Vernon, not so loud!" Petunia hushed her husband frantically, flapping her hands about like a twittery bird.

"Right," Harry continued, "they're tall. They're also wearing weird silky clothes which look pretty elaborate and speaking some weird whispery language too." At the words 'weird whispery language' Aunt Petunia made a funny choking noise in the back of her throat. Harry hoped she wasn't asphyxiating. "Mm, and they're all kind of glowy with glowy eyes." Aunt Petunia made another funny choking noise. Vernon quickly became concerned and patted her heavily on the back. "Oh, yeah," said Harry, leaving the best for last, "and they have really long pointy ears. Like elves. From movies."

Aunt Petunia fainted.

Uncle Vernon let out a strangled yelp and Dudley squeaked out a horrified "Mum!"

This was shaping up to be a lively summer, Harry thought, as his uncle and cousin frantically tried to fan Petunia back into the land of the living. He stood quietly by the door, keeping one ear on what was going on downstairs (or more importantly, whether what was going on downstairs was moving upstairs) and the other on Vernon's frantic callings of "Pet! Come on Pet, wake up!"

Finally, Aunt Petunia moaned and stirred. She sat up with the aid of her husband and put a trembling hand to her forehead.

"What happened?" She asked, clearly confused.

"I was telling you about the 'elves' downstairs and you fainted," Harry told her.

Aunt Petunia turned that odd shade of days-old-porridge.

"Pet?" Vernon asked anxiously.

"This is a dream right?" Whispered Petunia hoarsely.

"No, I already checked." Harry pinched himself again just in case.

"Th-this shouldn't be happened. It's not true, tell me it's not true!" Aunt Petunia was now growing somewhat hysterical. Harry began to suspect that perhaps his Aunt knew more about their situation than she let on.

"Care to enlighten us?" He asked, letting it be known that he knew she knew something.

Petunia's eyes met Harry's and suddenly he knew with certainty that his aunt really did know.

"I..." she tried.

They waited in silence, both Dudley and Vernon having caught on as well.

"It's okay Aunt Petunia," Harry soothed, feeling a little guilty about his aunt's state. But apparently not guilty enough, because he added next, "Shall I go tell them you'll be down to speak with them in a few? It'll give you time to compose yourself."

Harry made as if to leave the room, but Petunia's muffled shriek stopped him. He looked back over his shoulder as she scrambled from the bed and raced to the door where she physically blocked him from going further.

"Pet..."

"No, Vernon. I-I need to speak with them alone." Petunia was slowly regaining her colour, though she still looked frightfully pale.

"But...those...creatures...could be dangerous," her husband protested.

"Don't go Mum," whimpered Dudley.

Aunt Petunia shook her head 'no'.

"I'm sorry, I must." She seemed to draw herself up, suddenly appearing taller and far more self-assured than she usually did. Harry was impressed. Who knew his aunt could command such an air about her?

"Stay here," she instructed, then pulled open the door and left.

Harry, Dudley and Uncle Vernon were left staring at the door. They exchanged looks, for once not hateful, and then all simultaneously offered to go follow Petunia and spy on her.

"It has to be me," Harry was insisting.

"Whyyou?" Dudley sneered.

"Because Dudders." Harry eyed his cousin's heavy bulk. "You would set off every creak and crack in the house. They'd know you were there in a heart beat."

"Then I'll go!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed.

"Uncle," Harry said exasperatedly, "same goes for you. I'm the only one that can sneak around in this house. So I should go."

"Absolutely not," argued Vernon.

"I still think it should be me, I can too be quiet!" Dudley whined.

Harry rubbed his temples.

"Do youwant them to know you're listening?" He finally asked after man and son had exchanged a few more lines.

Harry rolled his eyes. There was no way Petunia and their...guests weren't going to know they were there.

"Then we might as well not sneak and just walk in," he decided.

Silence. Then, "Fine."

All three males headed for the door and had a brief scuffle as to who would go first (Harry won of course, as he was much more easily able to get through the doorway), and they finally exited single file, Vernon in the back. As Harry padded down the hall and Dudley waddled (while Vernon thumped) after him, Harry almost likened the situation to a mother duck with her ducklings. Then the thought made him go green, so he frantically banished it from his mind and headed down the stairs, not bothering to be quiet.

Squeak. Creak. Groan. The stairs protested having not only Harry, but also Dudley and Vernon all crowded onto them at the same time. Any voices that had been talking in the living room fell quiet. There was a shuffling and then Petunia appeared at the foot of the stairs looking angry. Harry froze like a deer caught in headlights and Dudley almost knocked him down when he bumped into his back.

However, before she could brow-beat them into returning to the bedroom, the two beings from earlier came out to investigate the noises. Harry's breath caught at being faced directly with the beautiful creatures. Dudley squeaked and Vernon choked.

The beings' eyes flicked from one person to another before finally coming to rest on Harry. They stared at him in what, if Harry didn't know any better, could almost be described as awe. Now why would such stunning beings be looking at plain old Harry Potter in awe? It didn't make sense, so he dismissed it as being a misinterpretation.

Suddenly, one of the beings spoke a word. It was only a single word, faintly whispered in breathy tones, but it was enough to make Aunt Petunia pale and shriek "NO!"

She whirled around and tried to herd the elfin beings back into the living room, but they evaded her grasp and came right up to the bottom step of the staircase. They were close enough to touch.

And then one did.

The being reached out with a light hand and grasped Harry's chin. Or, he held his hand out as if grasping Harry's chin and some invisible force did it for him. Harry froze and stared straight into the strangely slitted pupils of the elf-like being. All of a sudden, he smiled, showing straight, white teeth with surprisingly sharp eye-teeth. He spoke the same word as before and caressed Harry's face with his weird power. Then, Petunia interposed herself and wrenched the being's hand away with brutal force. She stood in front of Harry and tried to push him back up the stairs. Even if Harry had wanted to move (which he didn't, he was fascinated), he couldn't have because Dudley was still directly behind him and strangely silent and still. Harry suspected he'd gone into shock.

Petunia was trying to argue with the being. The elfin male was adamantly repeating the word Harry had heard earlier over and over again interspersed with others in what were clearly several sentences. Harry had to wonder how his Aunt Petunia knew what the being was saying. He eyed her suspiciously.

"No, no no!" She was still warding him from any further attempts to touch him again, but the beings were getting steadily more stubborn, and, it seemed, almost angry. Finally, the second being snapped something harsh sounding and Petunia stopped moving. All of a sudden she seemed to deflate and her shoulders slumped. The being (this one was female) snapped off a few more phrases and Petunia moaned and put her head in her hands.

Harry was starting to feel somewhat alarmed. This situation was getting stranger and stranger by the second, and it was beginning to lose it's marvel. Not to mention, where was the Order? Shouldn't they have noticed these beings and be in here demanding if they were working for Voldemort and if they had any bad intentions towards Harry by now?

Harry looked around, but he saw only his aunt and the two elfin creatures (by now Harry really wanted to know what they were really called, because he felt like it was insulting to call these, well, people,creatures and beings all the time).

Harry realised with a start that Petunia was speaking, her English sounding harsh after listening to the melodic tones of the other's language.

"Fine.Fine." She was saying. "But I come too, do you hear me?"

The being said a few things. He obviously understood English.

"No I don't want to you fool!" Aunt Petunia snapped.

A few more unintelligible syllables.

"Just because! I made a promise to that stupid old fool of a Headmaster, so I will be coming."

Harry immediately became interested. What promise? His aunt had made a promise to Dumbledore?

The being was smiling now and nodding.

"Give me a moment. I'll have him collect his belongings."

Wait, what? Harry jerked as Petunia turned around to face him and glared at him.

"Go fetch your belongings boy!" She snapped, still very, very upset.

"Wait a minute Petunia!" Vernon finally found his voice again.

"Don't argue with me Vernon, this has to be done, or neither you nor I will like the consequences." Petunia's voice was stony. Harry felt he was viewing a whole new side to his aunt that he'd never before seen.

Vernon stopped his blustering at his wife's words and quieted down, most likely remembering all the other unfortunate encounters he'd had with anything magical - Harry included.

"Come along Dudders," the beefy man finally muttered grudgingly.

Dudley seemed to come back to himself and made a few garbled noises before following his father back up the stairs. They both disappeared and a door slammed shut with a bang.

Hesitantly, wondering if it was really a good idea to listen to his aunt right now, Harry stepped back up the stairs. Still thinking furiously, he gathered his belongings, most of which were still packed in his trunk, and briefly debated whether or not to bring Hedwig's cage. However, since Hedwig was with Ron at the moment and wasn't likely to come unless she had a letter, Harry decided to leave it. Worrying his lip between his teeth in anxious thought, he dragged his trunk out of his room and only got about as far as the stairs before he was stopped. Both the beings had stopped him, smiled, and were now carrying Harry's trunk down the stairs for him. Their willowy figures obviously belied their greater than average strength.

"From the living room then." Aunt Petunia had changed into something a little better than her pyjamas. Harry belatedly realised he was still wearing his. Oh well.

He followed her into the living room where the two beings were standing next to Harry's trunk in the middle of a circle. Harry stared at the circle. Where had that come from?

The circle seemed to be made of some crushed something or other, but Harry didn't know what. He watched as Aunt Petunia stepped into it without breaking the line and followed her example, still wondering if he should be doing this.

It's okay Harry, he told himself, Aunt Petunia wouldn't do anything like this if it was going to harm her, so I'm safe.

Then, the beings began to chant.

The circle glowed and a barrier shot up from the floor, encircling them all within its pulsating shield. There was a frantic thumping from upstairs as both Vernon and Dudley stomped down the stairs. The last thing that Harry saw before his vision was overcome with white, was the gormless, gaping expressions of his uncle and cousin as they stared at the circle of light from the living room door.

Then it was white and Harry was weightless.

AN2: Ok, so that's the first chapter.

Again, this was originally meant as a humorous parody of all those "Harry discovers a lost heritage and runs off to another dimension where he finds family, etc, blah blah" but I ended up turning it somewhat serious. You may notice the writing style change too. I originally tried writing it in J.K. Rowling's initial writing style for the first couple of HP books (see any similarities? I tried to make it light-hearted) but as the fic gets more serious, which I fear it shall (oh well), the writing style will probably change.

shrugs

Anyway, I guess reviews are always appreciated, so I know what you all think. If I didn't care then I'd just keep this story all to myself and never post it. But alas, I do care. So review please if you want to see another chapter.

Not that I probably won't post one anyway. I actually have the next chapter sort of written (a writing bug bit me) but it needs major editing.

Also, once again, this fic will NOT be updated often. Maybe once a month?thinks Really, it depends on my mood and whether I'm feeling stressed. The more stressed I am, the more I will write this sort-of-silly fic.

No, that does not mean you can go out and chant voodoo rituals to make me more stressed than I already am. That's so not allowed.

Ok, I need to tone down the sarcasm. My sugar high wore off I'm afraid. I apologise.

And what's with the formal writing? Wth??

eats more chocolate

There that should do it.

Tell me what you think. kudos.

xoxRia

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.